


In Which Chaste Eyes Are Not Averted

by smallprotector



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, Mentions of the other Amis - Freeform, Oblivious Grantaire, ambiguously canon era, horrible flirting, possibly OOC Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallprotector/pseuds/smallprotector
Summary: Grantaire says the most outrageous things to Enjolras- and yet, he seems utterly oblivious to their meaning(aka Grantaire is less smart than he thinks he is, and Enjolras knows- and wants!- exactly what Grantaire is suggesting)





	In Which Chaste Eyes Are Not Averted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [long_dead_temple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/long_dead_temple/gifts).



> ...This is so horribly out of character for Enjolras, I have no excuse.
> 
> Saucelet, I hope you enjoy what I did with this concept!

The first time it happened, Grantaire was drunk off too much wine and the laughter of his friends, both emboldening him to be more reckless than he would otherwise dare to be. Enjolras had been talking about the needs for flags for the upcoming uprising, about how the people would respond better if they could tell this was planned- to Grantaire it sounded rather ridiculously optimistic about how likely anybody was to be swayed by the presence or absence of a strip of fabric, but Enjolras was convinced enough for them both. But instead of saying any of that, Grantaire did something far more careless. 

“I’d hold your flag for you,” Grantaire said, winking at Enjolras with a smirk. 

“Thank you Grantaire, I appreciate that. Tell me if you have anything you want me to hold, equality is important after all.”

Grantaire made a strangled noise and felt his face flush red. Enjolras must not have understood what he had been insinuating- but his dedication to his ideals was astounding. 

 

Grantaire hurried back to the Musain, his Robespierre waistcoat standing out like a brand declaring his supposed belief to anyone who saw it, though they would not know who exactly he was pledging himself to. When he got to the café, he strode over to Enjolras, who seemed shocked by the bright colour he was wearing and was staring at him in something akin to wonder in his eyes. It made Grantaire hold himself just a little taller and dare to walk closer to Enjolras than he ever had before. 

“Red” Grantaire said, leaning in to whisper into Enjolras’ ear and letting his hand brush his shoulder as he spoke. Enjolras bit his lip and looked up at Grantaire, cheeks strangely flushed and eyes darker than ever. He opened his mouth as if to respond before making an incoherent noise and turning back to an amused looking Courfeyrac. 

Well, that was an uncharacteristic reaction. Maybe Enjolras was sick? Whatever the reason, Grantaire had a mission now, one he was determined to fulfil. 

 

Enjolras walked in, lips pressed together in disapproval as he saw Grantaire sitting at a table playing dominoes. “Well there go my pants,” he exclaimed, eyes glued on Enjolras as he leaned back in his chair. Enjolras shot him a considering look, his gaze flickering down to Grantaire’s legs, and made his way to the leader of the potters to start recruiting for his cause. Grantaire stayed where he was, playing on and watching Enjolras do what he did best. But before he left, Enjolras walked by Grantaire’s table, glancing at the dominoes laying in front of him.

“Seems like no one is taking your pants anymore. But perhaps we should play sometime.”

Grantaire blinked. Enjolras wanted to play dominoes? He never would have expected that. 

 

Enjolras, Combeferre and Feuilly were huddled together in one corner of the Musain backroom, talking intently amongst themselves. “We have to make sure we have enough furniture to build a stable barricade- Feuilly, you have some experience in carpentry, right?”

“A little, from an earlier apprenticeship. But I don’t know if it would be enough, if we’re planning on actually climbing the barricade we might want to get some actual builders involved.”

Grantaire, who had been drinking at the table next to them, couldn’t resist. “Enjolras, don’t worry, you can climb my barricade anytime.”

Combeferre turned to frown at Grantaire as Feuilly coughed into his hand.

“Thank you Grantaire, maybe we should discuss the subject privately some time?” Feuilly’s cough seemed to get worse and Combeferre sighed as Enjolras answered.

Grantaire raised his bottle to Enjolras, acknowledging the request to leave them to discuss their plans in peace. As if Enjolras would ever want to talk to him outside of meeting- as if Enjolras thought his contributions were ever more than a nuisance. 

 

Grantaire had stumbled into the meeting hours late, having spent more time than he had planned talking to the pretty shoemaker until she declared him utterly impossible. By the time he stumbled into the Musain, the other members of the inner circle had broken up into little groups discussing their various plans. Grantaire couldn’t resist letting himself sit near the table where the Triumvirate were talking intently. 

“We need more rifles- and Courfeyrac, have you found any way for us to practice with the ones we do have? Perhaps we can just start with learning how to load and clean them. Oh, and bullets! We’ll need to start making more of those.”

“You can practice loading my rifle, Enjolras,” Grantaire called out, provoking a groan from Courfeyrac as Combeferre shook his head with a faint smile. 

“Come see me after the meeting then,” Enjolras said, not even looking up from the papers he was studying. Grantaire sighed. But oh dear- what if Enjolras was truly serious and wanted to learn how to load a rifle from Grantaire? 

Grantaire made the judicious choice to leave earlier that night, lest Enjolras approach him and expect Grantaire to be anything other than a wastrel. 

 

“Grantaire, would you do me a service?” Enjolras asked, his eyes alight with the flames of revolution and his hair an unkempt halo around his face. 

“Anything. I’d black your boots,” Grantaire said, drunk on the feeling of having Enjolras’ gaze focused on him. 

“Do then.” Enjolras said, the words seeming to tumble out of his mouth before he could think better of them.

“You want- you want your boots blacked?” Grantaire was confused. He would- oh he gladly would- kneel and polish the boots that Enjolras was wearing, but he had never expected Enjolras to want anybody else to do something like that for him- it seemed to go again Enjolras’ ethos of equality and all that. Not that Grantaire was complaining, but new development was surprising. 

“Not like that, how are you so- Grantaire, can I kiss you?” 

“What.”

“You’ve been insinuating things but you never follow through. Do you not want this? Have you been mocking me or are you just not truly interested?”

“I would never- I never thought you’d- but why would you want me?” Grantaire winced internally at how insecure he sounded on those last words, his voice going strangely high and plaintive. 

“Can I kiss you?” Enjolras repeated, his expression softening. 

“Yes,” Grantaire said softly, closing his eyes as Enjolras leaned closer, still not quite able to believe this was really happening until he felt Enjolras’ breath ghosting across his lips before he felt Enjolras softly press his against them. One of Enjolras’ hands came up to cradle his face and the other one drew Grantaire closer to him as he deepened the kiss until Grantaire thought he might dissolve into Enjolras. 

When they broke away from each other, they were breathless and flushed and Grantaire wanted nothing more than to keep kissing Enjolras, or even to just stay in his embrace and let his head rest on his shoulder. But a shout from the other room reminded him of why that was impossible and made Enjolras straighten up, letting his hands drop from Grantaire’s face and waist as Grantaire smothered a small distressed noise at the loss. 

“We have a new world to build,” Enjolras said, his face turning firm and determined. And in that moment, Grantaire believed they could. Perhaps soon he could walk hand in hand into that world with Enjolras. For the first time, faith blossomed in him. 

“I’ll be right there next to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are very appriciated! I'm on tumblr as wanttodrawmothsfrommemory, come say hi :D Feel free to suggest anything you'd like to see :D
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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